Damn Dansk
by England's Porn Box
Summary: Not many people – human or nation – ever got to experience Norway playing the violin. When he plays, it's said that it in itself is like one of the blonde's magical creatures; it breathes melodies and whispers notes. And even Norway himself is said to be completely different when he plays. Denmark is determined to uncover the truth. Surely they're wrong, right? Oneshot


Not many people – human or nation – ever got to experience Norway playing the violin.

When he plays, it's said that it in itself is like one of the blonde's magical creatures; it breathes melodies and whispers notes. The strings are like a cat's whiskers, twitching with changes, and adjusting accordingly. The bow acts like the trigger of a gun; the moment it lays itself onto the instrument, there's no stopping it.

And even Norway himself is said to be completely different when he plays.

The only man to ever have seen or heard the nation play (and live) was his boss, who described it as the most incredible thing he had experienced. The violin cried and yelled and laughed and told stories of knights and dragons, dolphins and whales, those who loved and lost, and the rich history of the country of Norway.

Lukas Bondevik, as he was known to humans, became like a human in a way.

Ordinarily, with his incredibly emotionless demeanor and blunt disposition, it would be easy to mistake him for a robot. Even those closest to him – the other four Nordics – could swear he truly had no emotions.

But the moment his violin made the first sound, Lukas came alive.

His normally-dull blue eyes shone with a wonder never seen before; his lips parted slightly in concentration, curling into a nearly undetectable smile; and his whole body relaxed, his eyebrows unknitting, and he lost his entire emotionless demeanor. He became a little boy given his first violin, pulling the bow across the strings for the first time, and letting the vibrations reverberate through his body.

Unfortunately, Norway was extremely private about his playing. The reasons were never clear. Iceland says that as a child, he occasionally played for him, but he has little memory of it. There are rumors that he himself taught the great Alexander Rybak to play. But no one could be sure, for only his boss had ever heard him play. The truth was a complete secret.

Mathias Kohler, known to other as Denmark, never liked secrets. He liked to know things about people. He knew that Sweden was actually very emotional, just bad at showing it. He knew that if you ever messed with Finland, he would kick your ass in two seconds flat. And he knew that, no matter what he said, Iceland loved his 'big brother'.

But he knew little to nothing about Norway. He had no idea what went on in his mind; what did he like in his coffee? What was his favorite kind of beer? What did he do in his free time?

Denmark could only assume.

He didn't like assuming much, either.

So, one quiet fall afternoon when it was too early for drinking, he made up his mind: he would hear Norway play the violin.

From the rumors he'd heard, it was fabulous. But considering how emotionless Norway was, Denmark could only imagine they were lies. He would soon find out, somehow, some way.

He began his quest by sneaking around Norway's house.

In Northern Europe, fall came earlier; the leaves were already red and yellow, and Denmark's boots crunched over the fallen carpet. He quietly crept around to one of the windows, peering in to try and get a glimpse.

He found himself staring into a library. The carpet was a rich maroon color, and the bookshelves were painted to match. They lined the walls with books and other decorations. In the corner was a fluffy recliner with a coffee table next to it, a freshly empty mug sitting on it. Norway had just been in there, it seemed.

Denmark frowned; he'd just missed the blonde he was looking for. He continued slinking around the outside of the house, until he came to another window. Inside was a spacious kitchen. A stainless steel fridge sat in the corner, with only a single note that read _Iceland's Fridge_. He raised an eyebrow at the odd label, and noticed another, identical fridge across the kitchen.

_Well, he always was strange,_ Denmark decided before moving on to the next window. It was a sitting room and dining room combined, filled with luxurious looking couches, chairs and tables. A deep green couch with elegant wood carvings sat looking out a large bay window. A deep, mahogany dining table sat in the middle of the room, with six matching chairs around it. The table wasn't elegantly set, and held only one placemat. The wooden floor was covered by a plush rug, likely hand-woven.

Mathias groaned; where the hell was Norway? Surely he was in his house somewhere. The whole thing was so huge and fancy-looking, though, he could've been in any of the rooms. Surely there had to be dozens.

He shook off his discouraging thoughts and kept walking. It only took him a few moments to realize that there were no more windows. It seemed that there was something important in the back of the house – something with no windows.

He grinned broadly; this had to be where he kept his violin.

Still smiling, the spiky-haired blonde slowly crept back to the dining room/sitting room window, slid it open, and silently snuck in.

At least, it would've been silent, if he hadn't knocked the wall and caused a vase to tumble down onto the table, shattering into a million pieces.

_Norge's gonna kill me,_ Denmark thought, gulping. _That table is mahogany._

But when no angry Norwegian came barreling into the room, the Dansk decided it was safe. He peered into the next room – which was a hallway consisting of three doors – and waited until he heard no sounds to investigate it.

The first door led to a bathroom, which was used by a grateful blonde. The next door turned out to be empty, bare of any furniture or even paint on the walls. There was, however, a strange symbol drawn on the floor, so he decided to leave it.

The last door finally produced results. It opened with a slight creak to reveal a huge, screened-in patio.

Mathias stepped down onto the wooden deck silently, feeling the boards give slightly under his weight. Hanging from the roof were potted plants of different varieties. Littered across the patio were chairs, surprisingly simply compared to the rest of the furniture of the house. And on a table in the middle, plugged into an outlet, was a coffee maker.

_That is so like him,_ Denmark thought with a smile. He looked around until he saw a door leading out, and then pushed it open. He was greeted by the most beautiful garden he'd ever seen.

The first thing noticeable about the garden was that for at least twenty yards, it was perfectly-trimmed grass. Every single blade was a favorable shade of green, and not a single weed was visible. Leading from the steps down from the door was a cobblestone path, which then forked into two directions.

Both paths were lined with trees, flowers, bushes and grasses. Between them towered an enormous weeping willow, providing ample shade.

After some deliberation, Denmark decided to follow the left path. As he did so, he was continuously awed by all the vegetation he saw. Already he'd counted more than thirty kinds of flowers, most of which he wasn't even familiar with. Many more weren't native to Norway, or even Europe.

A huge variety of trees kept part of the walkway shaded, but also let in light for the flowers to grow. He counted three types of pine; blue spruce, conifer, and evergreen. Other trees included oak, maple, cottonwood, dogwood, aspen, and even redwood. How so many non-native trees were able to thrive was a complete mystery.

Mathias found himself slowly walking along the path for nearly twenty minutes, stopping every so often to admire a particularly pretty flower. It wasn't until he actually heard the violin that he remembered what he'd come for.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Denmark's ears focused on the music. He moved a few steps closer. He recognized the tune as Dare I Say by Alexander Rybak, and had to wonder if maybe he was playing it with a certain person in mind.

_ Maybe even me._

Taking a moment to listen, the blonde was quickly able to confirm every rumor he'd heard. It truly was the most remarkable sound he'd ever heard. The violin flowed from note to note flawlessly, giving the effect of love, yet sorrow. Almost as if it was conveying the feelings of the song.

As he crept further, he laid his eyes on the real prize.

Norway.

He stood in a clearing in the heart of the garden, where both paths eventually lead. Under a towering pine tree, he looked small and delicate, yet still beautiful. Resting on his left shoulder was a rich, red violin, shiny in the fading sunlight. His slightly pale fingers pressed down on the strings and moved like he'd been born to do it. In his right hand was a black bow, its horse hairs a creamy white, a slight blur as they moved effortlessly across the strings. He gripped firmly yet easily around the handle, adjusting occasionally.

Denmark found his breath completely taken away by his face, however.

For what was surely the first time ever, Norway was openly displaying emotion. His eyes, though focused on the violin, were lit up, but in an incredibly sad way. They were glistening, as if the idea of crying had crossed his mind. His lips were parted slightly, and occasionally whispered the words of the song he played. His eyebrows were pulled together and sloped in a way that made it look like he was trying not to cry.

Unable to make himself move, Denmark found himself watching and listening, completely entranced. Never before had he seen more than a quick flicker of any sort of emotion cross the Norwegian man's face; seeing him look so heartbroken nearly broke his own heart.

By the time the song was finished, a single tear glistened on his cheek. He looked down to the violin in his hands, which were shaking. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed utterly defeated.

"Damn Dansk," he mumbled so low Mathias almost didn't catch it. Those two words snapped his out of his trance. Without thinking, he strutted out into the clearing and approached Norway. He walked so silently that the other blonde didn't notice him.

Denmark kept walking until he was directly in front of the other, then slowly reached down, cupped his cheek, and wiped the tear.

"What'd I do this time?" he asked quietly, his usual goofy grin painted on his face. Norway immediately flinched away and looked up, eyes wide. As soon as he realized who it was, they narrowed dangerously.

"What the hell are you doing here, Dansk?" he demanded angrily. His cheeks were slowly reddening.

"Well, I wanted to hear you play," Denmark replied.

"Why?"

"Well, according to your boss, it was the most incredible thing he'd ever heard. I had to find out for myself."

There was a moment of silence.

"Get out," Norway said flatly.

Mathias blinked. "What?"

"I said get out. Are you deaf?"

"No, but… but your boss was right! Watching you play was… amazing," he breathed. "Like God blessed the violin, and let you convey its music."

Norway seemed to deflate slightly at the last comment. "I don't care, get out."

"Norge!" the taller blonde exclaimed.

"Please," Norway whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't deal with this right now."

Denmark's eyes widened, and he instinctively pulled the smaller male into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry for whatever I did," he said quietly. "I won't do it anymore."

Lukas didn't move into or away from the embrace. "You can't just not exist."

Somehow, this stung Mathias. Knowing that his very existence caused Norway pain like this was unbearable.

"I can try," he replied. He let go of Lukas and turned to leave the garden, leave the area, and hopefully avoid the Norwegian he'd so come to love as long as he could. If it made him happy, he'd do it.

"No!" Norway cried, grabbing Denmark's sleeve. Denmark turned and raised an eyebrow. "If… if you didn't exist, I would probably go insane…"

Gears started turning in the Dansk's head, slow as they were. By the time they made the connection, arms were already wrapped around his neck, and a pair of gentle lips had already touched his.

Another second was needed to register the situation. In that second, Lukas had taken the lack of response as a rejection, and retracted his arms. Mathias looked at him in surprise, and still didn't react until the other had turned around and was looking down in embarrassment.

Finally knowing what to do, Denmark grabbed Norway's shoulder, spun him around, and brought their lips together.

Lukas reacted to the kiss almost immediately. His hand wrapped itself around Mathias' tie, forcing his face to come lower, down to his level. His eyes closed and he tilted his head slightly, letting the other take dominance.

Mathias almost smirked at Norway's willingness to let him lead the kiss. He carefully nipped and sucked on Norway's lower lip, making his intentions clear. He was pleased when the lips were parted, and he was allowed to snake his tongue in. It explored eagerly, pressing itself against the other tongue it found.

Lukas gasped slightly at the sensation, but it was quickly replaced with a moan. It was a completely new experience for him to be kissing someone, so he gladly followed Denmark's movements and copied them. Soon his hands were woven into the taller blonde's spiky hair, trying to get their faces closer. He was also vaguely aware of large hands slowly moving their way down his back to settle on his butt.

Denmark's hands slowly became more confident, inching down Norway's back until they found a comfortable place on his butt. He was incredibly pleased when there was no protest. He squeezed once gently, but decided not to do more, for fear of angering Lukas.

The kiss was finally broken after nearly a minute, with both nations' lungs on fire. After a few deep breaths, Norway opened his eyes, and found himself entranced by Denmark's blue ones. They were a gorgeous shade of light blue, like a robin's egg, complete with dark speckles.

"So, do you still think I'm a 'damn Dansk'?" Denmark asked in a slightly teasing tone, still staring into the other's eyes.

The Norwegian didn't even take time to consider his answer. "Yes, you damn Dansk."

And with that, Mathias was hit over the head. And he discovered that his Lukas was indeed a completely different person when he played violin.

Whoever the country of Norway was, Denmark decided, on that day, he'd always love him.


End file.
